


I won't surrender first

by Sadwritingtyrant



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Boys Kissing, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Hate to Love, Jealousy, Kageyama Tobio is Bad at Feelings, Love/Hate, M/M, Making Out, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Tsukishima Kei is Bad at Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:01:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23121421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadwritingtyrant/pseuds/Sadwritingtyrant
Summary: Getting through years of bickering and going at each other's throat, and trying to find a place to connect isn't as easy as they thought. Especially when neither of them wants to give in, and relinquish the upper hand. But the tension, the pining, the overwhelming want, can just make a person snap.
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 34
Kudos: 150





	1. Infuriating

**Author's Note:**

> I'm setting up the pace in the first chapter, because getting right into the angst and steamy stuff feels a bit off. Also, I want to stay as true as the plot allows, to the actual characterizations of all characters involved.
> 
> Smut warning; chapter 4 onwards

It was infurating, Kageyama thought, to watch the scene unfold. A thunderous noise revealed yet another blocked spike, Tsukishima was on a roll. Their opponent had been talking big for quite a while, and as kageyama watched, from his right, he saw Tsukishima Kei smirk, his eyes lighting up maliciously, as he watched the spiker twitch, both intimidated and embarrassed. For some reason, seeing his face so perfectly cold, made kageyama feel hot all over. There were fleeting seconds at night, sometimes they'd creep into his dreams; condescending smirks that made his body burn. He couldn't understand why. He refused to understand why. 

They had won the set, and the match and even as he started to feel his spirits rise, his mind rile up at the thought, that they could play another game, they had won; even then, he couldn’t take his eyes off a certain face.  
It was infuriating, to see how good Tsukishima had gotten in three years. There was no longer a need to remind him to not slack off in his run up, or to give everything into what he was doing. Back then kageyama had hoped that he’d fix his ways and be more enthusiastic in the sport, but now that he was, well and truly hooked, Kageyama felt like he was missing out on something. What am I thinking? Me feeling left out? Yeah, right. He just irks me, Kageyama tried to convince himself. Acting so smug over a block. He pisses me off.

Kageyama stared at the spiker of the opposing team, watched him join his teammates and mutter furiously pointing and waving his hands dramatically. Bet Tsukishima would love to see that. 

“Get in line, King,” a voice drawled, and Kageyama felt his skin prickle.  
“HAH?”  
Tsukishima merely shrugged, and pointed at the rest of the team already lined up.  
“You're in the way,” Tsukishima said, sounding almost bored, and shoved past him, leaving Kageyama standing there, like the total idiot he knew he was.

He’s an asshole, he’s an asshole, he's an asshole, Kageyama chanted in his head. Stupid, dumb middle blocker. Well he was hardly dumb, but that was irrelevant. His shoulder tingled, where Tsukishima had bumped into him, but that was irrelevant too. He'd seen a dream the night before. A dream in which strong arms had wrapped themselves around his thighs, and a soft voice had whispered, "Well then. How's my king doing?" The person in his dreams, didn't have a face. The voice was vague, but the tone was clear as day. It could've been anyone, Kageyama tried to convince himself. He wasn't sure it worked. 

“Tiredyama kunnn,” a voice sounded in his ear, as the team started to pack up, and leave for the bus.  
“Piss off, dumbass,” Kageyama growled, but if truth were to be told, he almost found the name endearing at this point. No matter what were to change, he could always count on Hinata to remain the same; cheerful and constant. At times like these, he wished he could be Calmgeyama instead of Tiredyama. Ah, Hinata's getting to me again.   
“youre no fun,” Hinata said, and Kageyama could HEAR the pout in his voice.  
“Yamaguchi and I are going to the mall to buy some T-shirts, theres one hell of a sale. You coming?”  
“Nah,” he replied, leading to much huffing and puffing, on Hinata’s part. 

The new first and second years boarded the bus, and just as he was about to get on, another hand closed over his in an attempt to get through the door. Kageyama pulled his hand out from under, as if he’d been stung.

“Watch it,” he snarled. Its been three years, he thought, watching Tsukishima’s face. Its been three years, and we’re still the same. 

Tsukishima’s face betrayed no emotion as he pulled back his hand, and bowed mockingly.

“Well then if you please, your higness.” The title "king", had long since stopped bothering him, but there was still something irritating in the way Tsukishima rolled his words, in the way he bowed and the smug, condescending smile he had on.

“Asshole,” Kageyama muttered.  
“Awh, thanks,” Tsukishima replied, not missing a beat, and the urge to punch him was so strong, kageyama had to shove his clenched fists into his pockets to refrain from punching him then and there.

Of course, he’d have to expect being clobbered afterwards because during their two years, he had grown taller, gained muscle, and both on and off court was an incredible and intimidating presence. The only time Kageyama had seen Tsukishima really mad, not annoyed; seething with rage, was the day two boys had thrown Yamaguchi’s textbooks out the window.

He hadn’t punched them, but as Kageyama watched from the sidelines, having been on the verge of jumping in himself, he had seen unadultered fury in the other boy’s eyes. The room had been deadly quiet, as Tsukishima walked towards them in long strides, seated himself on one of their desks, one leg crossed over the other in silent authority, an imposing tower looming over them, and said in a voice, silkily smooth, and dangerous to boot,  
“Pick it up.”

One had been on the verge of refusing, but the other immediately rushed outside, and mumbled an apology about how it had simply been a joke. 

So Kageyama knew it was good that they were able to resolve issues without fists. Most often, tsukishima’s words felt like a punch in itself. He settled down in a seat up front, and closed his eyes. He felt someone plop into the seat beside him, and his eyes snapped open.

“Sit somewhere else,” he muttered. 

“they’re all taken, or did you think I wanted to slum it in with you?” Tsukishima replied smoothly, already pulling up his headphones and crossing his arms, his eyes closing immediately as if he’d rather not see Kageyama’s face.

Kageyama thought of what he believed was a witty response but realized, he’d seem pretty stupid, yelling at a guy with headphones on. So he simply settled back and tried to nap.

But sleep wouldn’t come, and he was painfully aware of the broad shoulder brushing up against his own. He chanced a glance to his left, and as he did, his chest constricted. Tsukishima was unfairly handsome. Unblemished fair skin, and liquid pools of gold framed by unfairly long eyelashes. His jawline could cut stone, Kageyama thought, and almost unconsciously, reached out to stroke it.

The moment his hand touched the skin of his face, he felt his mind clear; he could feel the blood rush to his face, the sudden thundering in his chest that he was sure would wake up the boy apparently completely at ease on his left and he immediately pulled back his hand, scared. Scared that maybe Tsukishima wasn’t really sleeping, but also, scared of himself.


	2. Missing the big picture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misunderstandings and prejudice, are two foes in the path of what would otherwise be, a chance at a new beginning. The tensions are high, and with both Tsukishima and Kageyama being as hormonal as they are, things stray far from the ideal. 
> 
> However, being as keenly observant as they are, even slight changes for the better are easily noticeable and therefore, appreciated and yes, loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter is basically a warm up but also a dive into Tsukishima's perspective of things. From here on , we're going to level up the pacing. Well that's the plan anyway ;)

The practice match against Aobha Josai was something they’d all been looking forward to, and today was yet another one of those days; a day in which Kageyama felt totally in his element.

There was one tiny thing bothering him though. A very tiny miniscule thing, he told himself. 

They had just finished their 6th practice game. Tired out and famished, all the players had settled down for a small break. Tsukishima and Hinata seemed to be talking and laughing amongst themselves. 

Kageyama knew, that at some point during their first year, all antagonistic feelings they’d harbored for each other had slowly chipped away. There were moments of comraderie, and occasionally, mutual respect between them, he’d been there to witness some moments, though often times, he knew he hadn’t been. Hinata often bothered Tsukishima to help him with blocking practice during breaks but even though Tsukishima’s go-to reply was, “Come back during business hours”, at some point he’d started to give in and they’d started to grow, together.

Kageyama was envious of his best friend’s speed and agility. There was no denying that. But as he watched Hinata giggle at something Tsukishima said, (and then growl as it dawned that the joke was directed AT him), he felt an uneasiness in his stomach. 

Tsukishima had never teased him that way. No, he had jibed and provoked and hurt him, and Kageyama had never been friendly either. Sure, that had been way back then, but even later, they’d never shared the same easy atmosphere. He knew that seeing as both their personalities were closed off, it would be harder than with Hinata, but somehow, it was a hard pill to swallow. 

His hands are so big, Kageyama thought wistfully, watching those hands cover Hinata’s face in an attempt to stop the over enthusiastic fiend from pulling out his hair or the likes. His big beautiful hands. How I’d like them wrapped around-

He felt the heat rise in his face. Again. He’d done it again. Just stop, he begged his mind. Please. He already can’t stand me. If he ever finds out, if he ever finds out about all those daydreams, about every single time he’d locked himself in the bathroom after remembering those condescending stares, if he ever found out-

Kageyama took a deep breath. I wont let him find out, he thought. I’ll never let him find out. I wont think about him, I wont. His resolve was weaker than he’d thought though. It didn’t take long for him to sneak a glance, a discreet one. He’s like a drug, Kageyama thought. And I’m spiraling.

He watched as Tsukishima’s face became torn between amusement and panic, as Hinata pounced at him, and Kageyama had the overwhelming urge to smack Hinata’s face as hard as possible with the ball he was currently twirling around in his hands.

***

The king was watching him, he could feel it. He wished Kageyama would be just a little bit more aware of himself; it was impossible to miss his piercing glare. Tsukishima had always considered himself to be a rational guy, he’d been with a couple of girls before, and he’d never actually broken a sweat or gone out of his way to get their attention.

But with Kageyama, it was different. He was so obsessed with volleyball that he had a short attention span for just about anything else. Tsukishima never meant to be mean to him, it’s just, seeing his face pinched up in concentration, his pretty blue eyes turned up to the heavens, Tsukishima had the overwhelming desire to monopolize his attention, to somehow, SOMEHOW, shake him up. 

Of course it hadn’t started out that way. He had genuinely hated the king’s guts the first time they had met. Seeing Kageyama, had been a glaring reminder that in this world, talent would always outweigh hard work.  
But Kageyama never slacked off. Diligently, persistently, he would work, despite never actually HAVING to work that hard. It annoyed him, and it turned him on, and it annoyed Tsukishima that it turned him on. Kageyama was and always had been arrogant. He liked control and he liked things happening the way he wanted them to. And that’s not something Tsukishima was on board with.

You’re pretty obvious, Tsukishima thought, watching Kageyama’s ears light up, a magnificent red, under the harsh lights of the court. Tsukishima knew. He saw how Kageyama’s face would turn vibrant and varying shades of red, everytime they made some sort of skin contact. Well Kageyama was new to the whole prospect of hormones and desire. For more than 10 years straight he had been focused on volleyball and only volleyball, and now he was discovering his body, and all the pleasure it could give and receive. Kageyama found him attractive. Tsukishima knew this well enough. But he knew, that desire, was the only thing Kageyama seemed to feel for him. 

But that’s not enough, he thought, a pang hitting him in the chest. The thought came unwelcome and sudden. 

I don’t have feelings for the king, he reminded himself. Bullshit. This is bullshit.  


I won't lose. Not to you. 

There wasn’t much Tsukishima could triumph over when it came to Kageyama. But, approaching him first, was something he wouldn’t do. He wouldn't lose in anything else that mattered. But no matter how much he tried, unwelcome thoughts would make their way into his mind. 

I can’t let you know how much control you have over me. Because I will always be second best. Not the setter you look up to. Not the spiker that lets you shine at your brightest. 

You'll never want me the way I do. 

No, that’s all it is, he told himself. Lust, I'm lusting after a pretty boy. 

Sometimes it felt like he was constantly at war with himself. 

I hate this, he thought. I really, really hate this. 

It would be a lie if he said he didn’t fantasise about it; about those plump lips open wantonly, about marring his beautifully smooth skin with a line of pretty hickeys, of kissing that black haired arrogant, stupid boy until they both couldn’t breathe. 

Ugh, damn these fucking hormones, he thought, just as Hinata shoved him to get moving. 

The starting rotation for the last match of the day, had the tallest members of Karasuno, that being himself, Kageyama and Takeuchi (a first year) on the vanguard. Tsukishima had the wildest urge o taunt Kageyama, but he seemed to still be fuming and he didn't want to test him at that particular moment.  
Fighting the impulse to smack Kageyama’s ass, wonderfully flattered by his volleyball shorts, Tsukishima put his hands behind his head, both for the safety of his head and to combat the urge to do the obviously inappropriate deed of feeling up his setter.  
I’m one hell of a horny motherfucker, he sighed.

When they finally approached match point, the ensuing rally took a toll on him. But he saw Kageyama's face, alight with anticipation, devoid of worry and somehow, Tsukishima knew that the last ball would definitely come to him. 

Run up distance acquired, he thought, and he set off blending in the synchronized attack. But his legs hurt, the entirety of his body screamed. Giving everything he could into that final jump, Tsukishima raised his hand, not expecting the ball to sync up to his noticeably low spike point. But as if to say, well done, and thank you, for giving it everything you could, the ball was suddenly there, in the cleft of his palm. Letting out what sounded eerily close to a grunt, Tsukishima hurled the ball to the ground, past two panic stricken blockers. 

When he landed on his feet, he heard the familiar roars of his teammates. But this time, his eyes sought Kageyama's and he couldn't stop the words tumbling out of his mouth, intermingled with admiration and awe. 

"Nice toss." 

The silence that dawned with those words, was almost comicaly deafening but Tsukishima couldn't take his eyes off Kageyama. Shocked was an understatement. Kageyama looked as though the world had slipped out from under him. His expression was dazed, and almost  


Assuming an air of indifference, Tsukishima turned away but his insides were churning. Seeing a face he wasn't used to, on Kageyama, made him feel dizzy with glee and he felt that if he stared at him for one second longer, he might actually combust at the adorable mess that was Kageyama Tobio. 

Kageyama grabbed a towel and hurried out of the court mumbling about wanting to fill his bottle, dashing past Yachi, offering to do it for him. But as he passed Yamaguchi, Hinata observed their captain's face twitching, he wasn't sure if he was trying to hold in his laughter, or pure shock. 

"What's with Kageyama," Yamaguchi asked grinning at Hinata as he approached him. "He almost looked feverish, all red and blotched. Grinning all crazy like. Scary. Maybe we should have our fortunes checked just in case..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are on their way to getting hot and confusing, these are two hormonal boys we're talking about. 
> 
> As a side note, I'd really love and appreciate comments on how the work is so far and also, suggestions. It'll help me get a better understanding of the ideal Tsukikage tropes that, of course, is consistent with the story telling. 
> 
> Thanks for all the support guys. Hope you'll be there for the next chapter :')


	3. I didn't mean to

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In lieu of #TsukiKageweek day 4: Angst 
> 
> Things seem to be going uphill, until suddenly, the path that has just started to open up, is barred.

It was a blissful day for Kageyama Tobio, though he’d never admit it himself. 

That was the first time, ever, in three years, that Tsukishima had genuinely complimented his toss. It wasn’t that he was hopelessly enamored, it was the fact that Tsukishima, saw, and acknowledged, the effort and skill he’d put into what he loved doing the most. Something had changed between them. He was sure of it. 

He sat in class the next day, the same stupid grin occasionally popping up in time to scare a few classmates (and a concerned Hinata), replaying the same incident in his mind.  
I can’t wait for practice, he thought, tapping the table with a pencil impatiently, hoping, almost praying, for the bell to signal end of class. 

Hinata came to fetch him for lunch, and knowing that he’d be passing the college preparatory class, made him feel a wild urge to fix his bangs and iron his shirt. Maybe he likes the casual look, he thought anxiously, trying to keep track of Hinata’s rambling and his own train of thought.  
But Tsukishima wasn’t in class 3-4. 

Where is he? Kageyama wanted to scream. Hinata hadn’t yet taken notice of Tsukishima’s absence or Kageyama’s internal dilemma. Kageyama wanted to ask where he was, but seeing as how perceptive Hinata actually was and his constant pestering, Kageyama knew it was unsafe to ask for any details from him. It felt like a hole in his chest, it was depressing to think of continuing the day without getting even a glimpse of curly blond hair, of intelligent golden brown eyes, and the self satisfied smile he’d gotten so used to. Tsukishima had consistently been in his classroom at lunch break, for the past year, and the break in pattern left a hollow feeling in its stead.

“I kept telling Kouji that I’d gotten two centimeters taller, but he wouldn’t believe him, UUUUOOOOHHH gotta get some curry buns- Kageyama? Hey Kageyaaaaaama?”

Kageyama snapped out of his reverie in an instant.

“What?” he asked grumpily. 

“Weren’t you listening to me?” Hinata asked, sounding incredulous, as though he’d been talking of something of utmost value.

“Curry buns,” he sighed, “I heard curry- Tsukishima!”

“Huh?” 

But Kageyama’s heart was suddenly working on overdrive because there he was by the vending machine, in all his six foot four glory.

“He’s here,” Kageyama said, and he sounded a bit breathless, even to himself.

“So?” asked Hinata, scratching his head. “He came to school today, why’re you surprised?”

“I’m NOT, dumbass!” Kageyama yelled vehemently, and that seemed to attract the attention of the subject of their conversation, and his ever present freckled friend.

“Hey guys!” Yamaguchi called over. 

Kageyama had the feeling his face was some shade of red and hoped it would pass as simply a result of the extremely hot weather.

“Here, catch,” was the only warning he got before he found a carton of some sort being tossed at him. He caught it almost by instinct, and turned it around in his hand.

“It’s a new flavor, just try it,” Tsukishima said, but he was not looking at Kageyama, he was gazing at the vending machine as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. Kageyama felt his spirits soar. Is this how crows feel when they fly? He thought giddily.

Yamaguchi chose that moment to make a sound that sounded halfway between a cough and a wheeze, and immediately hid his face when Tsukishima elbowed him, not too softly, in the ribs.

“Grab your food,” Yamaguchi said after he’d regained himself, and convinced a concerned Hinata that he was quite alright. “Sit with us.”

Kageyama waited for the abrupt refusal from Tsukishima, he hated crowds and the cafeteria was crowded, but the refusal did not come. Surprised and pleased, Kageyama quickly and eagerly grabbed a few curry buns and sat down. Something odd was happening to Yamaguchi. He kept insisting that Hinata sit in front of him, but kageyama wasn’t complaining. It gave him sufficient excuse to sit facing a certain tall middle blocker.

The conversation carried on between Hinata and Yamaguchi with ease. Both Tsukishima and Kageyama had never been talkative people so it didn’t really strike any of them as odd when they both continued eating without uttering a word.  
Kageyama felt content. His heart was still beating fast, but it was at a comfortable pace.  
That was, until he felt a foot nudge gently at him from under the table. At first, he thought it was a coincidence.  
Calm down, calm down, he told himself, even as his body tensed up and his breathing started to accelerate. I need to get a grip, he thought desperately. Slowly, discreetly, he sneaked a peek at Tsukishima, but the bastard was stirring his strawberry yogurt, as if he had no convern in the world.

I should move my foot, Kageyama thought. But even as this completely rational thought crossed his mind, he realized that he was hyperaware of Tsukishima’s foot against his, of the slight but definite pressure.  
Is this on purpose? He thought weakly. But there was no way. Tsukishima didn’t even like him as a person. Maybe he thinks I’m attractive, a hopeful voice added in his head. Shut up, he wanted to scream at himself. This way of thinking is like walking into a trap. Its just his shoe, Kageyama thought desperately, its not even his skin.  
The thought brought images he didn’t want to think about, into his mind, vivid fantasies and a blur of color. 

This is stupid, he thought. Kageyama slowly started shifting his foot from underneath Tsukishima’s, gently, both anticipating and dreading the loss of contact. But there was a sudden press on his foot, ehich prompted Kageyama to immediately look up, and meet the most agonizingly beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.  
Tsukishima stared at Kageyama, and at that moment Kageyama forgot all about detaching his foot. He forgot about the buzz of conversation to their right. He forgot that they were in the cafeteria. 

Staring into his eyes, Kageyama felt vulnerable. There was a challenge there, in his eyes, as he stared at him almost taunting him. Well, they seemed to say, move away. Try it. Do it. But Kageyama was mesmerized and unable to look away, both of them suspended in this world with just the two of them, and a table that separated them from each other. He didn’t know how long they stared at each other, but Tsukishima didn’t look away. He looked, and searched, but Kageyama didn’t know what he was looking for in his eyes.  
I think I must be broken, Kageyama thought, as the bell rang loudly, breaking him out of his trance and bringing him into wretched reality with a resounding crash. A reality in which, there was more than a table, separating them.

***  
Tsukishima had to admit that it was getting increasingly more difficult to keep himself away from the blue eyed klutz he’d spent two years trying to tune out. The snark wasn’t coming to him easily, Yamaguchi, the little minx knew and to make matters worse, Kageyama kept looking at him with poorly hidden hope in his eyes. 

He wanted to claw his hair out. There were times when he thought kageyama might actually be into him, as a person, before he realized, why the hell would he do that? He'd been nothing but mean to him these past few years, they’d both been, so why would kageyama ever like someone like him? Every time he felt his spirits rise against his will, he'd see Kageyama's eyes sparkle while texting the inarizaki setter, would see a faint blush, whenever he saw Oikawa Toru, that smooth bastard. And he realized, he wasn’t monster enough to push kageyama there. 

Yamaguchi always said that was because they were more in tune with the language of volleyball, but it sounded quite unconvincing to Tsukishima. It was pretty obvious that the object of his late night thoughts had just discovered hormones, and was finding him attractive. But somehow, that annoyed Tsukishima more. 

Which is why he felt like sinking through the floor when he realized how needy he actually was. Just a bit of contact, was probably the thought that had been running through his subconscious mind, and without realizing he’d been doing so, he'd slowly, carefully, positioned his foot so as to get some form of closeness to the person he was CONSCIOUSLY avoiding. 

I just want to tease him a bit, he told himself, as they sat across each other at the cafeteria table, dull noise echoing around them. A smirk plastered on his face, and a witty comment sitting on his tongue, he'd looked up to expect an uncomfortable looking Kageyama, but what he got, made the smile slide right off. 

Kageyama's shoulders were tense, and his fists were clenched. Tsukishima wanted to say he was red as a tomato, but he felt that tomato wasn’t the word that would fit the mood at the table, right then. His ears were a brilliant red, but as he looked up, Tsukishima saw a tiny shy smile on his face, and when their eyes met, he felt as though this was the first time, he’d actually looked.  
You’re so beautiful, he wanted to scream. How do I stay away from you? Why do you look so innocent? How do I face someone like you? 

You’re so bright, he thought, but even as he did, he saw himself reflected, just slightly in Kageyama's eyes, and he realized, they did seem to sparkle a bit. Maybe not the same way as when he did an air splitting toss, but sparkle they did.  
It made Kei feel warm, and it made him pissed that it did, or so he hoped because he couldn’t really figure out if that was just wishful thinking: wanting to feel pissed to stop feeling so fucking lame. 

But then the bell rang loud and clear, and he arranged his face in what he hoped was an unconcerned expression and pretty much zipped out of the cafeteria with Yamaguchi. 

Guess the only thing I’m good at is running away, he thought, and the weight on his shoulders felt a bit heavier than it had been before. 

***  
Kageyama wasn’t sure how he was feeling. Yachi had been trying to teach him what “ecstatic” meant a while back, and he thought that was probably a word grand enough to capture its' essence. He was afraid that when he returned to the volleyball club that afternoon, Tsukishima would’ve reverted to being the guy that just didn’t care, but he couldn’t deny that he was excited. 

He was, that is, until he heard laughter by the corridor. He recognized that voice, but he couldn’t recognize the laughter. A pang in his stomach told him, that it was because he’d never actually heard it. 

Tsukishima was standing by the corridor outside class 4, his arms folded, and looking fondly at a girl. She had her fingers curled around the sleeve of his uniform, and as kageyama looked on, he saw Tsukishima bend down to hear what she was saying, their faces close but not quite touching. The gesture earned him a smack from her, and he heard her exclaim, “I’m not THAT short!”  
It was too much for kageyama. He felt like he was overreacting, this wasn’t really a big deal. They weren’t dating, they'd simply bumped feet under a table. He didn’t own Tsukishima. Heck, he didn’t even think that Tsukishima liked him as a person. He told himself over and over again, about how it didn’t matter, how unreasonable he was being, how volleyball was the only important thing to him.  
But that didn’t stop the prickling behind his eyelids, and didn’t ease the tension in his clenched fists. It didn’t quell the heaviness in his throat nor the anger that he felt accompanied with all those conflicting emotions.  
*** 

Misaki was too loud, Tsukishima thought, as he watched her laugh loudly. They’d known each other since they were kids, their mothers were best friends after all, and he was a little proud of her academic achievements since they’d last met, but he hadn’t expected they’d meet again for the first time in 6 years, right at his school. She’d insisted he show her around, and since she was one of the few people Tsukishima could tolerate, he complied. 

He winced as she shoved him and added pressure on his left hand. 

“Wait, Kei, are you injured?”she asked, her eyes raised slightly. 

“Ah yes, probably in a recent match,” he replied sighing heavily. 

“Go get that checked before club you IDIOT,” she exclaimed, grabbing his arm tightly. 

Ever since Hinata had been injured during a volleyball game, their coach, and team, had been more cautious that ever, of potential risks and injuries. Tsukishima knew she was right.

“I guess I’ll tell Yamaguchi I’ll be a bit late for club then,” he said, moving his fingers methodically. I’ll finish the checkup quickly, he thought. He told himself it was because Yamaguchi needed him to help the first years, and definitely not because he wanted to stare, at a pair of beautiful ocean eyes.  
*** 

He was late. Kageyama could feel the blood boiling in his veins. He had ruined his day, and now, the bastard had the audacity to be late to practice? It had already been 10 minutes since practice had started. Nobody seemed to be kicking up a fuss that Tsukishima was late. Yamaguchi had been talking to the coach, after which they’d both exited the gym to meet the vice principal, Hinata was doing spiking drills, and other than the first years, nobody seemed antsy that Tsukishima kei wasn’t at practice on time. 

And then suddenly, he bounded in. Well not bounded. That bastard was too fucking smooth in all aspects of life, including walking.  
For half a second, it seemed as if Tsukishima had cracked a smile at him, a genuine one, but the fury in Kageyama's mind was in complete control of his mouth. 

“You think you can come up to practice whenever you like and everyone's going to be FINE with it?”  
There was a resounding smack as the volleyball hit the floor unspiked, and Hinata turned around, horrorstruck.  
The first years seemed terrified, and waiting for an acid comeback from Tsukishima.  
But he merely blinked. Once. Twice. 

“Ah,” he said, “I was actually at the-“

"You think excuses will help us win our matches?" Kageyama tried to keep his voice even. 

"No, Kageyama listen to me, I had to-"

"But of course. It's you we're talking about. What did I expect?" Kageyama knew, in his mind, that there was probably a legitimately good reason that he'd been late. But there was also a good possibility that he simply didn't give a fuck. He'd been late before, for no reason, but "just because". This wasn't the first time Tsukishima had simply, not cared. 

"LISTEN to me," Tsukishima said, albeit loudly. If Kageyama hadn't been as furious as he was then, he'd have heard the desperation creeping into Tsukishima's voice.

“I don’t give a shit,” Kageyama snarled, “you think just because you don’t give a damn about volleyball it’s the same for us? Everyone puts in effort but you’re too much of a goddamn asshole to do the same. You only think about your stupid self, and you’re not invested in the sport at all so what the FUCK are you doing here?” 

For a second the gym held its breath. Eyes hovered nervously between the two boys. Kageyama thought for a split second that Tsukishima might leave; might leave the club and never come back. But he just stared. While a few hours back his eyes had been molten and full of… something nice, now they were golden slints, cold, not giving away anything.  
And then Tsukishima, who had for some reason entered the gym without changing into his training clothes, fished out his shirt from his bag and started changing. The silence was palpable. After he’d changed, he beckoned at Hinata. 

“Oi, shrimp,” he said, completely unperturbed. “Let’s try block outs."

For once Hinata didn’t complain at being called "shrimp",and simply,wordlessly complied.  
“Shoji, Yami, if you want to practice come over here. Each of you, spike really hard at the edges of my hands, at an angle that ricochets out. Got it? “ 

“Yes, Tsukki senpai,” they chorused, still sounding a bit intimidated. 

All the while, Kageyama watched. He wished Tsukishima would punch him. Anything was better than this cold reception. But he wordlessly joined their rookie setter, in putting up tosses.  
Fifteen minutes later, Yamaguchi came back in. 

“TSUKKI! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?”

The first and second years were visibly freaked out but Tsukishima didn’t so much as flinch. 

“The doctor TOLD you not to train today. What are you DOING? Go home for today”

The ground seemed to give away from beneath Kageyama's feet, as realization struck him with the force of a boulder. And then Tsukishima turned towards him, and it was not the Tsukishima of yesterday or today morning.  
The cold stranger turned and spoke, disdain dripping from every syllable. 

“Sorry Yamaguchi, I don’t take orders from you.” 

He raised a swollen hand and continued, “What do you say, King? Can I go home now?”

Kageyama could only nod mutely, and watch as Tsukishima strode out of the gym, staring after him, as his figure grew smaller and smaller and finally disappeared. If he had actually had the guts to look up, as Tsukishima passed him, he'd have seen the momentary flash of hurt that had cut through his stoic face, and left it looking, quite vulnerable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies guys, if you thought it'd be fluffy, yikes.  
> I do want to make them fluffy and simultaneously steamy pretty quickly, but I feel like they have things to work through first. Tsukikage wouldn't be Tsukikage if they weren't basking in insecurity, doubt and plain awkwardness. 
> 
> But I absolutely promise they work everything out in the next chapter, which is already in progress, and things will start getting upbeat (that's to say, hot) pretty soon. Next chapter in fact. But we've gotta keep traces of their canon personalities there too, that's why Tsukikage WORKS and why it makes such a great ship. BECAUSE they can help each other in many ways but of course, there are stuff to get through and move past first. They both have their own admirable traits, and are in some ways, quite similar. 
> 
> Hope you guys stay tuned! Comments are always appreciated so I can figure out your take on it.


	4. Just one more time

Tsukishima dropped his bag on his bed, and sat down heavily, the day’s event cluttering his mind, and banging against the inside of skull. 

His head was heavy, his hand hurt, and he was pissed. He felt like his pride had been twiddled in front of him, he'd been yelled at in front of all their kouhais, in front of all the new members and he’d done; nothing.  
He would’ve felt better if hadn’t acted so pathetic, and shut Kageyama down on the get go, but no. He’d tried to explain himself, tried to make Kageyama understand, that he wasn’t some flimsy guy, that he wouldn’t trample on someone’s passion, that he himself, loved volleyball. That he'd gone to the gym for one reason and one reason only: to see the guy that had just trampled over every attempt he'd borne to somehow fix, this THING between them, to somehow make him see how he’d felt. 

His denial had dropped at the most inconvenient time possible, there was no denying it anymore; he liked Kageyama, and it seemed that he was teetering DANGEROUSLY close to more than that. His own inability to stand up for himself, his reluctance to humiliate Kageyama with any witty quips, his INCAPABILITY of coming up with a retort at that moment, his desperation; all of it, forced his eyes wide open, wider than he’d ever seen before. There was no getting around it. And he hated it. 

Kageyama had mocked him, mocked his passion for a sport he dedicated so much for, for a sport he had learned to love despite the many things that had held him back in the past. It pained him more than he’d have liked to admit, and the only thing that sustained him, was the fact that Kageyama had been rendered speechless at the sigh of his hand. His pretty mouth had fallen open, and there had been a panicked look to his eyes. He felt like a sadist but the thought that he hadn’t been alone in feeling some amount of discomfort helped soothe his pride, but did nothing to fix the damage that had fallen upon their already, strained relationship. He had tried his hardest to get past the obstacle that was their conflicting personalities, had tried hard to wrench open the shroud of mist that didn’t allow Kageyama to see past his own volleyball, but it had all been to no avail.

He must have imagined the scene at the cafeteria because there was no way a person could switch so quickly. They were back to square one and the thought was so devastating that Tsukishima thought it was probably better for him to remain there, rather than risk falling again. The humiliation was strong, the disappointment stronger, and though he hated to admit it, the guilt that accompanied his satisfaction at having hurt the King in SOME way, made him feel sick.

The overnight training camp in Tokyo the next day, didn’t help his mood. The fact that he’d actually have been able to play if he’d stay put instead of retaliating like a child, made him groan out loud, a fresh wave of humiliation washing over him, at his own behavior. He’d be warming the bench tomorrow that was for sure, but of course Yamaguchi wouldn’t let him stay at home. He promised himself, that he’d make sure his mask would remain intact for the entirety of tomorrow.

“It’s pretty insane how well facilitated this place is huh,” Yamaguchi whispered to Tsukishima, as they both got off the karasuno bus, and headed towards the sports and dorm facilities. 

“Yeah,” Tsukishima replied, trying to ignore the fact that Kageyama was right behind him whispering and mumbling loudly, to Hinata who seemed to be struck dumb, by whatever he was saying. 

Kageyama had tried to approach him multiple times during their ride. But Tsukishima found himself unwilling to hear any of it.  
Well, he thought. This is definitely more peaceful. The nagging feeling at the back of his mind persisted, refusing to leave for even a second. 

“One room could fit two,” Yamaguchi said casually, observing the dorms and testing the locks on the door to his right. 

Tsukishima whipped around so fast he heard his neck creak. There was an ominous feeling to how Yamaguchi had said that, had very slowly avoided his eyes. 

“We’re in the same room though, right?” he asked cautiously.

Yamaguchi turned away from him completely, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze flickering everywhere, except at his best friend.

“Hinata is apparently a kicker, and we can’t have the freak duo fighting the entire night.”

“I’ll take Shoji then,” he replied immediately. 

“They’re all paired up, and they want to be with their own frien- come on Tsukki, they’ll hate you for this.”

“I don’t care. I’m not sharing a bed with him. You know-“ he lowered his voice, “ you know how I feel.”

“ I do. And unless you resolve this conflict, you’re going to be upset.”

“I'm not. I’m fine. What- how- why in the world would you think the alternative is to force me into a BED with him?” Tsukishima sputtered. His voice lacked bite, as it always did with Yamaguchi, and he wished he could express how much of a torture he was going to be put through, in more ways than one.

“I- you piss me off,” he muttered, and stalked away, his mind inevitably settling into panic mode.

“Well, try not to jump him,” Yamaguchi called after him, grinning cheekily.

You bastard, Tsukishima thought, shoving his fists into pockets to avoid flipping him off and cursing his very existence. As he walked through the corridor, he glanced at the open grounds below, and saw Kageyama talking to a Nekoma third year. Of course the only third year that remained from Kuroo’s team was Lev, and Tsukishima had to acknowledge that he did miss having the Nekoma captain around. Sometimes. Especially during times like these, where he’d have grabbed that ballsy kid by the scruff of the neck, and let Tsukishima storm off in peace, instead of glare at him, and the king of all people, with pure dread and an emotion he didn’t want to name.

Kageyama expected the cold ignorance but wasn’t ready for it. He knew he’d fucked up. He knew he’d done something, that seemed almost irredeemable. He hadn’t let Tsukishima get a word in, he’d humiliated the BOTH of them, he’d lost control, and all for a boy that couldn’t even stand him. 

But that’s not right, he thought his throat feeling heavy. Tsukishima had tried. He’d given him food and he’d complimented him. And reluctantly, begrudgingly, he’d always had his back. They’d had a tentative relationship, but now that it seemed to be no more, he realized just how much he’d depended on it, held on to it, and how very real it had always been. Maybe they weren’t best friends, but they’d had something. Understanding, begrudging respect; he couldn’t put a label on it, but now, it felt very much gone.

He walked slowly across the grounds, trying to find his way through the school, obviously the new Fukurodani group must have been extremely wealthy, and as he turned around to look at the direction signs, something collided with his shoulder, almost knocking him to the floor.

“Ah,” Kageyama said, on recognizing him. Hyuuga had grown a good 5 cm from when they’d last met, and now he stood a couple of inches taller than Kageyama. It made him feel slightly unbalanced for some reason. Hyuuga was a good-looking bastard. And he knew it all too well. 

“Well excuse me,” Kageyama said with a slight bow, and tried to continue on his way; when Hyuuga pushed him back softly, his hand remaining on his shoulder.

“Oi Kageyama, it’s been a while,” he remarked smiling, raising his other hand in salute.

“Yes,” Kageyama replied. He felt awkward, and unsure of what to say, as he always seemed to be whenever he was around people he didn’t know all that well. 

“I have to find our capt-“

“You didn’t give me your number last time Kageyama, I’m going to get it for sure this time.”

His hand remained on his shoulder.

“But why?” Kageyama asked bluntly. He was unsure of what was happening. They definitely didn’t know each other all that well, and Hyuuga gave him a disconcerting feeling. He wanted to escape from this situation as quickly as possible. 

“Well,” Hyuuga said, his smile wider than ever, “I was hoping we could go out some time.”

Go out? But why? Kageyama wondered. Was it to talk about volleyball? Regardless, he didn’t really want to, seeing as how he didn’t have time and simply didn’t feel comfortable enough to make any sort of small talk.

“No, I don’t think I can,” he replied honestly. Hyuuga’s grip on his shoulder was bruising. 

Kageyama had the wildest urge to sock him in the face, but he had to keep his hands safe for the tournament, and if by some chance the fukurodani group got wind of fighting, Karasuno would have hell to play. So he stuffed his fists into his pocket, and looked Hyuuga in the eye. Hyuuga's crafted smile seemed to be slipping. 

“I don’t know what you’re being such a bitch for, its just a date.”

A date? Kageyama almost choked on air. He shook his head vehemently hoping Hyuuga would get the hint and back off but he just kept smiling, almost leering at this point, and Kageyama felt a looming ominent feeling as he stared back.

“Did you take being called King, to your head, oh great one?” he asked mockingly. “Cant go on a date with a mere commoner?” Kageyama felt the heat rising in his face, he had an overwhelming urge to just run for it, but just as he thought it, another voice joined the fray.

“No, I think it’s because you’re just ugly.”

Kageyama remained perfectly still, afraid to breathe. But it wasn’t out of discomfort or humiliation. It was out of relief. As Tsukishima stepped forward, Kageyama couldn’t conceal the look on his face, and he turned away quickly before either of the other two caught wind of the naked expression on his face. 

“What did you say to me?” Hyuuga asked, his face turning a magnificent beet red. 

“That you’re ugly,” Tsukishima said, smoothly slipping into the space between Hyuuga and Kageyama, thereby forcing the former’s hand off his shoulder. “Oh, and dumb” he added as an afterthought.

“You little shit!” Hyuuga whispered, the muscles on his face taut, a slight quiver to his lower lip and Kageyama watched albeit fascinated, as the trademark smirk slipped onto Tsukishima’s face. He’d successfully gotten under his skin, and he looked elated.

But as Hyuuga took a step forward in Tsukishima’s direction, his fascination slipped away, and was replaced with fear. Did Tsukishima know how to fight? What would they do if they got caught?

Without meaning to, his fingers wrapped around the hem of Tsukishima’s shirt.

“Hands off,” Tsukishima hissed looking back at him.  
“Oh. Sorry”

He quickly took his hands off, face flaming with embarrassment.

“So,” Tsukishima continued, “You were harassing one of our students huh?”

“ I wasn’t . When did I do that?” Hyuuga shouted, his fists clenched. 

he turned towards Kageyama, eyes flashing menacingly. "Oi kageyama, was I harassing you?" Kageyama found himself at a loss for words at being confronted so suddenly, he felt clumsy and slow, struggling to compose an answer. But he needn't have worried. 

“Oh no,” Tsukishima said, sounding surprised. “I meant by showing your ugly mug of a face. My, he must have gone into shock. Kageyama’s quite dumb but I’ve never seen him at so much of a loss for words.” Kageyama bristled at his words but knew more than to rise to the bait. Because that trap, wasn’t laid for him.

Hyuuga swung his fist but rage seemed to have made him clumsier, because his movements were far from refined. Tsukishima dodged it smoothly, pulling Kageyama out of harm's way. Kageyama found himself shielded by his broad back and he could feel the thrum of the blood in his veins. It was obviously done instinctively, and he’d have done it for anybody, but Kageyama couldn’t stop the warmth blossoming in his cheeks. 

“Well, you swung first,” Tsukishima said, taking out his cellphone and apparently dialing a number. 

“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean.”

“It means,” Tsukishima leaned in, “ I'm not the only one that was watching.” He whispered. And as Kageyama turned, he saw faces peering curiously from the building above. They weren’t at a sufficient distance to hear what was happening, but they couldn’t have possibly missed Hyuuga’s swing. 

“But- But you-” Hyuuga blustered.

“Yes, yes, me,” Tsukishima replied calmly. “You have two options. You leave this dumbass alone instead of groveling for his number and pestering him when he’s given you a clear answer: no. Or we take this to the Fukurodani board and see who they believe, me, or the guy that swung at a defenseless student in front of 20 witnesses. Let me assure you though, that if you continue to bother hi- any of them, I won’t hesitate to bring this to the board for harassment, and not just by that muck of a face.” 

Well he didn’t seem defenseless, Kageyama thought as he watched Tsukishima tower over Hyuuga, looking incredibly impressive, though of course, he’d have never admitted it out loud.  
Tsukishima turned around to glance at Kageyama, whose fingers had once again curled unknowingly around the hem of Tsukishima's shirt, but this time he said nothing and simply turned around to look Hyuuga in the eye. 

“You son of a bitch,” Hyuuga whispered, his eyes widening. 

“Maybe,”Tsukishima said, shrugging. “some things, " he sighed exaggeratedly, " just can't be helped. But hey, at least I get shit done.” There was a look of triumph in his eyes, one that neither Kageyama nor Hyuuga missed. 

And with that, he turned around and without looking, wrapped his fingers around Kageyama's wrist and started heading off in the direction of the dorms. But then he paused, and called out to Hyuuga one last time. 

“Don’t call him King. You don’t get to do that.” And with that, walked off, leaving behind a crowd of extremely curious bystanders, and dragging along a very flustered and confused Kageyama

Once Tsukishima approached their shared room, he let go off Kageyama's wrist as if he’d been scalded. 

“This is our room,” he muttered gruffly. Kageyama had no idea how Yamaguchi had managed to convince Tsukishima but this, he felt, was a start. He’d have more opportunity of talking to him privately and mustering the courage to apologize, if they were roommates. 

“Aren’t you changing into your uniform,”Kageyama asked carefully, not looking at him. Tsukishima didn’t reply. 

“Okay then,” Kageyama muttered. “I’ll use the bathroom first.” No reply. 

Kageyama changed into his uniform and as he tied his volleyball shoes, he realized that Tsukishima wouldn’t be able to play in this game because of his injury. The thought clawed at his insides.  
“I’ll be going to practice, “ he said walking out of the bathroom, but as he looked around he realized, Tsukishima had already left. 

Kageyama was so distracted at practice watching Tsukishima on the bench that his sets were lousy enough to warrant coach Ukai’s attention. After a stern talking to, about how his teammates' plays depended on him, and how he should be trying to bring everything to the table however, he upped his game and attempted to return to his usual form. It was difficult though, because Tsukishima's eyes stayed glued to the court, analyzing, critiquing, taking quiet mental notes, and the very thought that Tsukishima was being his usual cryptic, evaluating self, was enough to make Kageyama feel extremely self conscious. 

He survived through it though, and thought he'd done a pretty good job, until the harsh reality came crashing down on him, in the form of his new roommate, Tsukishima Kei. He'd known it was Tsukishima, but it was still unpleasant to see his eyes sweep past him as if he didn’t exist. Kageyama knew he hadn’t apologized properly, knew he had to do it, but Tsukishima's adamant reluctance to acknowledge his existence pissed him off more than he wanted to admit. 

“You’re a fucking asshole,” he snapped, when Tsukishima came out of the bathroom, hair damp, glasses off, looking like a model for Calvin Klein, except regrettably, with his clothes fully on. When there was no reply, Kageyama turned and stormed to the bathroom, slamming the door so hard, the window pane shook.

I hate him, he thought furiously. But as this comforting thought entered his mind, another came to replace it. Tsukishima’s warm fingers wrapped around his wrist. His arrogant glare, as he’d proclaimed that only he could call Kageyama, king. 

Ah that wasn’t it, Kageyama thought, letting the water run and stepping into it. He'd said, that Hyuuga didn’t get to call him that. What does it mean? Kageyama wondered, willing himself to think. His mind was taking him on a dangerous path, whispering things he’d hoped were true, but knew, wasn’t. But what if, the devil in his mind probed. What if, he was jealous and came to take you away? What if he finds you attractive? Or maybe-

“Shut up,” he muttered aloud.

He resumed washing the suds off his hair with more vigour than necessary.  
When Kageyama came out of the bathroom, his eyes immediately zoned in on Tsukishima, already settled down on the right side of the bed sitting upright. He didn’t mutter a word, and instead, took his glasses off, and placed them on the corner of the dresser.

Tsukishima was about to lie down, when his eyes suddenly zeroed in on the guy that he’d tried his best to ignore for a good portion of the day. For a second, he said nothing. Without taking his eyes off Kageyama, he reached again for the dresser and took his glasses, and then carefully placed them back on.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he bit out.  
Kageyama blinked.

“What did I do now?” he snapped. “Is it because I breathed in your direction? Well Tsukishima, I'm fucking sor-“

“ it's cold, what are you wearing? ” Tsukishima asked, his hands now cradling his head, rubbing his eyes in circles. 

Kageyama glanced down. He was wearing a white thin cotton shirt, and shorts. 

“What’s your problem?” he asked, amazed.

Tsukishima just stared at him. And then he sighed.

“You’re right. Just- just get into bed. I mean, go to sleep.”

As Kageyama got under the sheets, he heard a low but very distinct, “Fuck you, Yamaguchi.”

Tsukishima, he decided, was weird. There was just no getting around it.

“Goodnight,” he said. And he was met with, yet again, no reply.

He wanted to let it go, he really did, but pettiness was an ugly thing, and Kageyama could do nothing but allow it to rear its head.

“ I said goodnight, asshole.” No reply.

He laughed humorlessly. “You’re quite quirky aren’t you? The silent treatment? Really? ”  
No reply. Kageyama could feel his blood boiling. He pulled the sheets to his side of the bed, and then turned on his side, jutting out his rear in an attempt to get more than the unofficially agreed half of the bed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Tsukishima’s voice was low. Oh, now he wants to talk? Kageyama thought, scoffing internally. Instead of replying, he settled himself more comfortably on the already cramped bed, and closed his eyes.

“I asked you a question, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Kageyama’s eyes flew open. The tone he'd used was different this time. For some reason, it chilled him to the bone. For the first time since he'd gotten into the bed, Kageyama rolled around slowly, and turned to face him.

Tsukishima looked otherworldly in the dark, the moonlight streaming through the gaps in the curtains illuminating his already beautiful face. His eyes looked like molten gold, but right then, they were cold, slints. Tsukishima’s pupils were blown wide open. He was on his side, staring right at Kageyama, but the gaze felt like it was piercing his very existence. For the first time, in a long time, Kageyama felt scared. It wasn’t the fear that accompanied thoughts of being beaten up. No. he felt this fear to the core of his being, he trembled internally. It was like witnessing the calm before the storm, like approaching Pandora’s box and knowing it would bring no good. He felt like he was about to be eaten up because there was no way he'd escape unscathed if he continued provoking the lion.  


Kageyama turned away slowly, almost not breathing, and slowly attempted to angle his body away from Tsukishima. But a strong arm had wrapped itself around his waist, from under him, pulling him flush against his broad chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Tsukishima whispered softly. It was like observing a predator capturing his prey, Kageyama could see it happening, but was also assaulted with the realization that HE was the prey, HE was being hunted. It made his breath quicken, made the blood thrum in his veins, made his heartbeat match a pace it had never done before.

“You’re moving away? Now? Isn’t that unfair, King?” Kageyama had the weirdest urge to moan, hearing the FILTHY tone in which Tsukishima was saying the nickname he had despised for the longest time. And then he DID moan, as Tsukishima wedged his thigh in between Kageyama’s own legs.

“D-don’t,” he stammered.

“Then move away.”

The bastard, Kageyama thought weakly. The fucking bastard.

“I wont do anything you don’t want me to do. You can stop me right now.”

You fucking asshole, how dare you be chivalrous now? Kageyama thought. If Tsukishima hadn’t asked, Kageyama would’ve been able to pass all of this, all of his humiliation, all of this WANT, off as something that wasn’t his. But he did ask. Because he was Tsukishima. 

Tsukishima started slipping his arm away from underneath, but Kageyama grabbed it, his palms sweaty and clammy, his heart in his throat.

“I don’t- I-,” Please don’t make me say it, he begged internally. 

For a second, Tsukishima was silent. Kageyama could feel the sweat dripping off his forehead onto the bed. But he needn’t have worried.  
Tsukishima put his arm back where it was and instead, wrapped it tighter. It made Kageyama feel safe and it made him feel trapped. In a good way. In a delicious way.  
Kageyama could feel his breath, hot on his neck. He could feel his own heart beat thundering across his body.

Tsukishima's free hand, the one not pressing Kageyama’s torso to his own, drifted and Kageyama found himself holding his breath. He didn’t dare look back, because he was afraid of seeing what Tsukishima’s face looked like, touching him.

His touches were feather light, teasing, his fingers slipped under Kageyama’s shirt, and gently grazed his v line, touched the sensitive skin under his belly, his thumbs rubbing soft circles. Kageyama whimpered, and the arm around him tightened. He was trying his utmost hardest not to grind on the thigh that was currently pressed against him, making him feel vulnerable and very much naked. Kageyama pressed his fist against his mouth in an attempt to stifle his cries, as Tsukishima very gently, traced his tongue, from the sensitive skin behind his ear, to the softness of his neck. 

“Tch,” he heard, and found his hands being held together with one of Tsukishima's own.

“No one is going to hear you,” he whispered. “only me. Let me hear you, Kageyama .”

The hot air at his ear and the provocative tone, made him blindly buck his hips, seeking for some pressure of sorts, and Tsukishima chose that moment to sink his teeth into the soft skin at Kageyama’s neck. He couldn’t help it, the lewd sounds pouring from his mouth, the thunderous tattle tale- his treacherous heart beat, the want, oh, he'd wanted for so long. 

There was a sharp intake of breath from behind him, but he didn’t turn, even as the hand that had been teasing the soft skin at his pelvis now wandered north, over the thin fabric of his shirt, settling firmly on his chest. Tsukishima's persistent fingers twiddled at his nipples, coaxing them, and Kageyama flinched, whimpering, the movement in turn causing him to press hard on the thigh wedged in between his own. It was all too much, and the thought, “Tsukishima is touching me , its real”, sounded over and over, even in the lust filled haze of his mind. But he had to make sure.

He gasped at the expert touch and the trail of kisses down his neck, on his collarbone, but nevertheless, steeled himself, and turned around, head buried in his pillow, and muttered a very quiet, “why?”

Tsukishima's hands stopped, and immediately, Kageyama’s body rejected his own words, begged for salvation, he wanted... wanted... wanted-…

“Because you’re sexy,” Tsukishima muttered, almost against his will.  
That was enough to make Kageyama's toes curl deliciously under the covers, he was elated, he couldn’t believe it. And as Tsukishima's hand rubbed against him again, he felt it more intensely than he had before. He still couldn’t get himself to look Tsukishima in the eye, but he felt brave. He felt turned on. He felt sexy. 

Tsukishima's lips were soft on his neck, his tongue slowly licking a trail down his shoulder then up again. Kageyama shivered. 

"Ah. Found it." 

And then Tsukishima started working in earnest, nibbling at a particular spot on his neck, sucking it and then running his tongue over it, determined to mark him. Kageyama was grateful, the night felt so unreal he thought he wouldn't believe it happened tomorrow morning, if there was no proof, and what more proof did he want that the telltale signs of his needy body? Kageyama's heart was working at overdrive, he couldn't breathe, but being breathless had never felt so good. 

Tsukishima's fingers pinched and twisted his nipples, this time, more aggressively than before, and Kageyama's body lifted itself cleanly off the bed. 

"Don't-" he whispered brokenly. "I c-can't-" 

But Tsukishima was far from done. One hand slipped under his shirt, moving upwards to rub circles onto his nipples. He grazed the tip with his fingernail, causing Kageyama to gasp so loudly, he wondered if someone would run in to see what the commotion was about. 

Tsukishima slipped a finger inside Kageyama's mouth and then another, his index and middle finger working his mouth, while the fingers of his other hand pulled and teased the sensitive parts of his chest. 

Kageyama sucked his digits, sloppily, drool falling onto his pillow, and Tsukishima moved them rhythmically, in and out, over and over, fucking his mouth with his fingers, making him choke and sputter, wrecking him, slowly tearing him apart. 

"Please," Kageyama begged, without knowing what he was begging for. He moaned around Tsukishima's fingers as Tsukishima suddenly pushed them deeper, and lay them flat against the soft pad of Kageyama's tongue. 

"I think that's enough," Tsukishima murmured to himself, and moved his fingers, now slick and wet, under Kageyama's thin shirt, this time rubbing his own saliva against his left nipple his fingers sliding smoothly over it, while his other hand continuously and tirelessly worked on his right, his mouth wandering south, teeth grazing his spine, edging dangerously downwards. 

"I'll die!" Kageyama moaned brokenly, rutting against Tsukishima's knee, in an attempt to create friction. 

"That'll be a new cause of death," Tsukishima whispered against his skin, not slowing down his assault, but moving upwards, to bite Kageyama's earlobe. Kageyama was painfully hard, and he realized half way through, that he just didn't care about embarrassing himself. Tsukishima was touching him in all the right places, but it just wasn't enough. Tears were falling down the sides of his face and he was sure he might have split his lower lip, considering how hard he was biting on it to avoid letting the whole facility know, what they were doing in the darkness. 

He whimpered as Tsukishima twiddled and teased, nails grazing the sensitive tips, the motion fast paced and dizzying, watched as his nipples became plump and swollen, hardening into pebbles under Tsukishima's watchful gaze and relentless hands, and couldn't help bucking backwards onto Tsukishima's own hard on, and jutting his chest, trying to give more, feel more. 

"Sensitive nipples huh?” Tsukishima muttered, and Kageyama flushed at how brazen it sounded. 

“I'll use my mouth then,” he continued, and Kageyama’s heart stuttered. 

“No- I-“

“Come on king,”Tsukishima said softly, coaxing, “let me make you feel good.”

Kageyama's heart staggered. "here," Tsukishima said lifting Kageyama's shirt, "bite this", he said gently, bringing the hem to his mouth. 

“You should do this with someone you don't hate,” Kageyama whispered weakly. Tell me you don't hate me, he pleaded internally.  
But there was a sudden stillness in the air the moment those words left his mouth. And as the seconds passed, the nervousness was back in full force, but now, it was of a different kind. Tsukishima drew his arm back, and took his leg out from between Kageyama’s, and then without a word, he sat straight, looking forward unblinking.

"How badly do you want me gone?" Tsukishima muttered, his eyes bright but lifeless. "wha-" 

“You’re right,” he said. "I shouldn't be doing this." 

It was as if he'd been hit in the face with ice cold water. Kageyama could feel his insides writhing. It was too painful. It was too much. He was hard, and his body was covered with sweat, there was drool on his cheek, but none of it mattered.

He watched as Tsukishima drew out his phone and checked his messages.,  
“I'm going for a walk,” he muttered.

“Don’t. Don’t- I’ll- I’ll tell the coach, I swear I wi-“

“No, Tsukishima said, already out of the bed. “I don’t think you will.” And with that, he got up and walked out through the door.

Tsukishima felt humiliated. For the second time this week. He’d actually tried to make the king feel good, with one of the only says he knew how, and Kageyama had simply gone around and told him to do it to someone else.  
“You should do this with someone you don't hate.” 

He wasn't surprised that Kageyama thought he hated him, they were in the middle of a fight after all. Just yesterday, in fact. But he did feel like the king was blowing it out of proportion. Hate, he thought, is a strong word. He hadn't tried to correct kageyama though, not when he was practically being shooed away. The fact that he'd told him to find someone he didn't "hate", in that moment, when Tsukishima had felt... happy, when they were being... Intimate, the fact that he'd been told to find someone that was NOT him, upset Tsukishima more than he could say. Tsukishima hadn't thought that kageyama would drive him away simply because they were fighting. Was he really okay with Tsukishima being with someone else? 

Kageyama had looked mesmerising, truly a siren dragging him out to unknown waters; only to devour him whole. He felt doomed somehow, like the fragile hope he'd held for their relationship had suddenly been extinguished, not leaving a shred of light in its wake. Tsukishima recalled the graceful arch of his back, the lewd pretty noises spilling from his lips, the gyrating hips,the sexy thighs, the memory was enough to make him hard in mere seconds. “Ugh,” he bit out in frustration. Okay then, he thought seething. If Kageyama wanted to get rid of him, that’s exactly what he was going to do. Yuki, the fukurodani manager, and also his one night fling, had texted him yet again, having had broken up with her boyfriend. 

“Need you. At the pool.” Tsukishima had originally planned not to go, but he was hard, he was unsatisfied and he was upset and he thought he needed a sympathy fuck. They were both messed up anyway. 

He heard her crying before he entered the pool arena. 

“I keep telling you not to get with those douche bags,” he muttered, approaching her. 

“Kei, I can’t anymore. Why do people keep dumping me?” she asked sobbing. “why did YOU dump me? Why is life so unfair?”. Tsukishima didn’t think of himself as a cruel person but watching her, he felt an irrational need to shake her. At least you had a love life, he thought gloomily. 

“I didn’t dump you,” he said for what appeared to be the millionth time. “we said it’d be a one night thing.”

"He said he likes my food,” she cried wringing her hands. 

“Well there you go, a red flag. He’s obviously a liar”

“still an asshole,” she said, tears leaking from the side of her eyes.” And why are you hard? Are my tears turning you on? You fucking sicko”

"no,”Tsukishima muttered. “I was with someone.”

That seemed to stop the waterworks. 

“He blue balled you?” she whispered in a hushed voice. “who IS this person?”

"I don’t know honestly,” Tsukishima sighed sitting down beside her, the tent in his trousers still glaringly obvious. 

“ Were you answering the first question or second?” she asked wiping her nose and looking at him. 

“Both,” he said wrapping his arms around his knees and gazing at the still pool water. “Ugh it’s fucking freezing. Should’ve brought a scarf or something.”

“well since we’re both losers, and you’ve got a raging hard on,” she said shrugging, “might as well go for it.” And with that, she pressed her lips to his. 

Kageyama watched the scene unfold ; he couldn’t hear their voices, but he could see them and that was pain enough. He walked back slowly to the room, careful not to interrupt the couple, his throat heavy, his eyes stinging, Tsukishima's scarf clenched in his fist. 

"Ew piss off snot face,” Tsukishima hissed pushing her off. 

“But I thought you wanted some of these goods,” she said, her lips still puckered.  
Tsukishima had thought so too. But something felt extremely off about getting off with Yuki to a hard on caused by none other than the King himself. It felt wrong. Not to mention, that was a lot of snot he was going to have to deal with. 

“I’m heading back,” he said straightening up.” You should get back too. Maybe try someone more mature next time.”

“But you’re basically an old man and it still didn’t work out, ” she huffed. 

“and I’m telling you,”Tsukishima said heading for the doors, “we never dated, dumbass.”  
***  
The first thing Tsukishima realized, when he got back to the room just past midnight, was that something was very odd. Kageyama’s snores, he thought. He’s not snoring. He glanced at the king, peacefully curled up at the the very corner of his side of the bed. There’s no way the king looked this good when he slept. Normally, he’d always drool and grind his teeth in his sleep. I could’ve sworn he'd turn like the hand of a clock, Tsukishima thought, taking off his shoes. He slowly got into bed, careful not to disturb the silence of the night. It was hard to fall asleep, and an hour later, he was still awake. It sucked that both he and Kageyama preferred the left side of the bed ; he knew it from their last training camp. Better me awake than him, he thought. Because he’s annoying and I won’t get any rest either, he reasoned with himself. But then, he felt the bed shift beside him and he felt warm breath on his back. 

“I didn’t know you hated me.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.  
Was he crying? But now, more thoughts were pelting Tsukishima like stones. That one sentence, blew his mind wide open. Did that mean he HADN’T wanted Tsukishima to leave? Had he expected denial on his part? Reassurance that he didn’t in fact, hate him? As opposed to telling him to be with someone that didn't constantly pick fights with him? If that was the case, tsukishima thought he ought to just clobber himself. 

Did he know that Tsukishima was actually awake? 

“I think it’s reasonable,” Kageyama continued. He thinks I’m asleep, Tsukishima realized. He wanted to tell Kageyama that he was still awake but he knew, that if he did, Kageyama would feel embarrassed. This was obviously a conversation he'd wanted to avoid. So he shut his eyes as tight as he could and tried to pace his breathing normally.  
“I always call you asshole, I got really jealous and yelled at you-“ jealous? When?  
“I embarrassed you in front of everyone from the club. I-I said you weren’t passionate enough to do volleyball.” He paused. “so. It makes sense. That you hate me.” But I don’t, Tsukishima wanted to scream. 

"But,” a deep breath.” I wish you didn’t.” Kageyama’s voice cracked at the end. Tsukishima somehow found his own heart, being ripped into two, it was an unbearable feeling. He couldn't figure out why people called it beautiful. It was messy, and it ached. Love, he decided, ached. 

He felt hot tears fall onto his arm and he stayed, unmoving, silent. But inside, he wanted nothing more than to grab Kageyama Tobio and shower kisses on him, long, soft kisses, to kiss all his tears away, worship every inch of his skin. Kageyama deserved the whole fucking world, he thought. Because finally, FINALLY Tsukishima could see what he'd been missing all along. You like me too, he marvelled, his heart clenching with equal parts happiness and worry. 

He didn’t want to hurt Kageyama’s pride, it seemed as if he'd tried his hardest to not cry in front of him, so Tsukishima kept silent, biting his lip to keep himself from saying a word. 

“I’m sorry.”Tsukishima could hear the tears in his voice. 

“I’m sorry," he repeated his voice cracking, "I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I'm really sorry.”

There was a silence in which Tsukishima wondered if he’d ever recover from the guilt of making Kageyama cry, but then the bed shifted again and Tsukishima knew that Kageyama had curled up once again. Twenty minutes later, he heard the snoring. He got up from the bed. 

He walked over to the other side and knelt down beside the sleeping figure. He’s so ugly when he sleeps, Tsukishima thought, and he thought his heart would break, from the fondness he could no longer suppress. It was an achingly haunting feeling. 

I love you, he thought. I really do. But I’m not like you. I’m too much of a coward to say it out loud. 

He lifted the blanket a little bit higher, tucked a stray strand behind Kageyama’s ear, and then kissed him softly on the forehead. 

“Me too,” he whispered. “I’m sorry." He closed his eyes and repeated those words, to make up for not saying them, not just this night, but to make up for the past three years of hurt he'd caused, "I'm sorry." and now his voice wasn't steady either. "I’m really sorry.” He blinked rapidly attempting to clear the blur in his line of vision, and then gazed down at the serene face, at the tear glistening on his eyelashes, at the slightly open mouth and the tousled hair. 

I’ll do better, I promise, he thought. Just let me try, one more time. Just one more time. 

Rising from his crouch, he slowly got back into his own corner, careful not to rouse the king, from his sleep. In the moonlight, his face held no grudges. Kageyama looked peaceful. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to keep the touching scenes relatively lowkey, but also steamy, but I'm not sure how much justice I've done to it.  
> The misunderstanding from Tsukishima's side, has finally been solved.  
> Yuki was a character I enjoyed creating hahaha.  
> Thanks for reading thus far guys. Comments and feedback are always appreciated.


	5. The feel of you

Kageyama woke to an empty bed. It was surprising and then, yet again not. He’d have never thought that Tsukishima would wake any earlier than six thirty but his alarm had gone off at six fifteen and Tsukishima was nowhere to be seen. Then again, seeing as how they were rooming together it would make sense that he’d want to leave as quickly as possible.

Trying to forget the disaster that was yesterday night, Kageyama pulled the sheets back from where they were mysteriously tucked around his shoulders, and made his way slowly to the bathroom.  
The attempt at sweet oblivion lasted all of two minutes. There, blossoming splendidly, on the crook between his neck and shoulder was what was undoubtedly a dark hickey. The night’s events flooded him all at once, and he dropped to a crouch burying his face in his hands feeling the warmth on his fingers. His body felt like it was on fire, it was equal parts humiliating and flustering and he wanted to scream and then work off the pent up feelings from yesterday night.

The hurt of seeing Tsukishima kissing someone else, the hurt of being left alone lingered within his skin, bruising him. He couldn’t blame Tsukishima for leaving; they weren’t dating and he had the right to leave if he felt uncomfortable, which he apparently did. Understanding that seemed to numb the pain, if only just a little.  
He didn’t seem to feel uncomfortable with that girl-  
Shut up, he begged himself.  
But he said I was sexy, his mind supplied.

“AAAARGH,” he grumbled into his fingers.

“what are you doing?”

Kageyama thought he’d die then and there. His body tightened and his head swiveled almost comedically in the direction of the voice.

Tsukishima leaned on the frame of the open door, arms crossed, peering down at Kageyama through his glasses, his face quite unreadable.

“I bruffed- bru-“ he took a deep breath, “TEETH.” He said motioning his index finger across his teeth.

Kageyama’s face was a brilliant red. He knew it, because he could see himself reflected on the huge mirror hanging over the sink.

There was a minute of silence in which Tsukishima’s carefully arranged face cracked and he simply looked utterly flabbergasted.

And then he snorted, eyes dancing with mirth and held out his hand.

Kageyama looked at his outstretched hand, and without quite realizing what he was doing, extended his own and clasped it as tightly as he could. If you can't love me, he thought gazing up at him, then lets at least move past this, and become friends. He felt his heart sink at the thought, but reminded himself; it wasn’t a break up if they’d had nothing in the first place.

“Get up your highness, I didn’t say we should hold hands.”

“Huh?” Kageyama muttered intelligently.

Tsukishima smirked slightly, and indicated their clasped hands with his eyes.

“Oh,” Kageyama said. “OH. R-right.”  
  
Face burning so hot he thought it’d burn right off, Kageyama pulled slightly on Tsukishima’s hand to lift himself off the floor, only to stumble right into his broad chest and knock his face painfully on sharp cheekbones and the sharp frame of expensive glasses.

“FUCK,” Kageyama yelled, cursing his very existence. “I’m sor-“

“It’s alright,” Tsukishima said, reaching up to fix his askew glasses.

Tsukishima was acting odd. He wasn’t ignoring Kageyama or yelling at him. He wasn’t being mean, no, he was actually being considerate. Or as considerate as Tsukishima could be.

I still have to apologize for yelling at him in front of everybody, Kageyama thought, watching Tsukishima walk out of the bathroom and perch himself on the foot of their bed.

“Lock the door King, anybody could walk in on you,” Tsukishima called out.

“yeah. Right,” Kageyama mumbled, reaching for the door and shutting it.

“I thought you’d left,” Kageyama called from behind the closed door. Tsukishima wasn’t sure how he should reply, he was actually surprised that Kageyama wasn’t murdering him at the moment for leaving him with a hard on the other night. But then again they’d both had boners and he’d gone to bed without satiating himself as atonement for his mistakes, so he could use the understanding.

He’d left early in the morning to talk to Takeda about his college applications, he’d apparently received offers from two foreign universities, but that was the last thing he wanted to talk to Kageyama about.  
First, he thought, I’m going to apologize. I’m sorry I left you with a boner yesterday night. No that probably wasn’t the best opening sentence. I’ve been in love with you for over two years. That would probably scare him off.

“Didn’t you leave in the morning?” Kageyama asked again.

“My bags aren’t packed yet,” he replied; it wasn’t an answer but it was close enough.

Were they not going to talk about last night? Tsukishima wondered. How do I fix this?  
But his thought process was cut off as he observed Kageyama move into the bedroom, his white T-shirt soaked and see through, his bangs dripping with beads of water and his towel slung casually around his neck.  
Tsukishima averted his eyes. He had to be very careful. He couldn’t mess up again.  
But the stupid king was messing it up for him. Deep breaths, he reminded himself.  
And then stupid, beautiful Kageyama Tobio took off his towel and tossed it on to the wooden rack by the door.

“W-where did- that-“ Tsukishima couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so at a loss for words.

“Huh?” Kageyama asked, turning to face him.

Tsukishima pointed wordlessly at his neck, and realization seemed to dawn on Kageyama in two seconds flat. He smacked his palm over the hickey, so deeply etched it looked unreal, and swiveled to avoid looking at Tsukishima.

Fuck. I marked him.  
Fuck.  
He looks so hot.

But he steeled himself to find the right words, the words that needed to be said at that moment.

“I’m sor-“

“It’s nothing.” Kageyama’s voice was oddly high pitched, and he still hadn’t turned. “I’ve already packed my bags. I’ll be leaving now, see you in the bus.”

“Wai-“

But Kageyama had already stuffed the damp towel into a clear bag and shoved it into his backpack, and was already striding past Tsukishima, determinedly avoiding eye contact, ears a bright scarlet.

“Well, see ya.” And he was gone.

Tsukishima stared at the empty room, at the unmade bed and then turned to stare at the door.  
He leaned against the wall and slid down, clutching his knees and burying his face in between them.

“Oh no,” he muttered to himself. “He’s so cute.”

He had the feeling he was diving into a whirlpool, and there was no way he was coming out unscathed.

Kageyama knew he was being silly. Tsukishima was the one who had given him the hickey in the first place. But he couldn’t help it. Having Tsukishima stare so intensely at the bruise made him feel incredibly embarrassed, like he was naked and under a spotlight. And for some reason, it made his body feel hot, his mind restless.

“SHIT,” he yelled, startling Hinata who was standing to his right in line. They were waiting for the bus, and for some students to finish packing, Tsukishima included, and the embarrassment kept hitting Kageyama periodically.  
“It’s alright, he didn’t notice,” he muttered.  
“Who didn’t notice?” Hinata quipped.  
“None of your business dumbass,” Kageyama snapped, which in turn made Hinata swipe at him furiously, instigating a series of back and forth exchange of blows that didn’t hit, until Yamaguchi approached them with a quiet dead look in his eyes.

Their captain was scary.

Tsukishima followed, his eyes narrowing at the sight, but he didn’t say anything.

“Sit with me,” Kageyama muttered to Hinata in an undertone.  
“Wh-“  
“Just do it!”

Kageyama wasn’t sure why but he had the feeling Tsukishima wanted to talk to him and he felt that he could do without having that awkward conversation.

It was a hassle to go to school the very next day after a tedious training camp, but Tsukishima had been exempted from playing because of his injury and he wouldn’t have minded, now that he had something to do that involved a certain blue eyed setter, but as timing would have it, he was stuck at home, doing online interviews with the foreign universities that had decided to give him a chance. The time zones were quite annoying, he thought as he thanked the man in the screen, wearing the smile and black coat, and turned off his computer.

He wondered what Kageyama was doing. Probably snoozing in his seat, he thought fondly, his mouth quirking at the sides.  
Ugh, he grumbled. I’m such a sop.  
He couldn’t help it though. He tried to imagine what Kageyama would look like, sprawled across his bed, the hem of his shirt between his teeth, arms over his head.  
Or even better, straddling his lap, back arched, mouth in the shape of a perfect “O”.  
He envisioned the beads of sweat, the soft sounds of skin on skin, and Kageyama’s sweet innocent eyes being marred with all the delicious things he had in store for him.  
He hadn't touched himself in days, out of frustration with himself, and now he felt so pent up he thought he'd die. Memories of the noises spilling from Kageyama’s mouth during that one night kept hounding his mind. They had him on leash and he could do nothing but replay them like a reel, over and over, trying to grab onto the fine details in his memory and wishing desperately that he’d found out what Kageyama tasted like.

Probably sweet, he thought, swirling the contents of his coffee cup, around and around. That would fit well with his sweet tooth. But what would his skin taste like? Salty? What did he taste like in-  
Tsukishima spilled his coffee on his sweatshirt, and groaned, noticing the stain, and the almost-bulge in his pants. Gotta do something about that, he thought sighing. 

Kageyama was in fact, NOT snoozing in his seat. This garnered the attention of several of his classmates but he was too immersed in his own woes to realize.  
Where was Tsukishima? He had accidentally-on-purpose entered the wrong classroom in the morning expecting to see the tall figure he was accustomed to seeing by now, but he had not been there.  
Who could he ask? Yamaguchi?

The bell rang and he was out of his seat in a flash, sprinting though the corridor, running past a startled Yachi, and almost knocking Koji to the ground. He stopped in front of the staff room, and waited for the one person he could count on to ask no questions.

“Takeda sensei, I- uh- is Tsu- Tsukishima sick or so-something?”

Takeda blinked.

“No,” he said slowly. “He has an online interview and I thought it’d be best for him to take it at home.”  
“Oh.”  
Kageyama felt foolish standing there, at a loss for words.  
“Could you deliver his notes for me?”  
“Huh?” Kageyama felt his mouth run dry. Tsukishima’s house. Takeda sensei wanted him to go to Tsukishima’s house.  
“Ah if you’re bad with directions, I’ll just send Yamagu-“  
“I’ll do it!”  
He flushed realizing how enthusiastic he sounded, but Takeda pretended not to notice and instead left, only to return with a stack of notes.  
“I’m counting on you,” he said smiling.  
“Yeah,” Kageyama murmured.

There was no volleyball practice that day; it was their off day after the camp, and thirty minutes after the bell had rung signaling the end of class, Kageyama found himself outside Tsukishima’s house, his heart racing miles a minute, palms sweaty, sweat rolling down the sides of his face.  
This is nothing. He’s my friend. We’re friends. Besides, his mom's at home. So is his brother. What are you getting flustered for on your own? He asked himself.  
He unlocked the gate, and walked up to the wooden door with its designs that seemed to oozed prestige.  
Kageyama felt out of place. But he steeled up his nerves and knocked. Once. Twice. He cleared his throat, and shifted from one foot to another, waiting…waiting…

And then the door opened and he found himself facing a surprised Tsukishima, wearing a grey sweater, sleeves rolled to the elbows, looking every bit as otherworldly as he had seemed that night.

“H-hi,” he said, raising his hand.

“You need to leave.”

“What?”

Kageyama thought his lungs would collapse on themselves, he was feeling out of breath for different reasons. Panic, was not an emotion he ever wanted to feel.  
But he pushed on.

“I have your notes,” he attempted.

“Hand them over and leave,” Tsukishima said reaching out his hand through the crack in the door.

“No.”

Tsukishima stared at him.

“What?” he asked quietly. He breathed slowly through his nose. "Kageyama, this is not the time." 

His entire being hurt, but Kageyama thought that today, today he would not falter. He would say everything he had to, and then he’d leave. Head held high, soul at least a little less heavy.

“Let me in,” he said. “I have to talk to you.”

“King, listen.” Tsukishima was sweating. Kageyama looked at him, eyes widening in surprise, that Tsukishima actually looked…nervous.

“No,” he said again. “I need you to listen. Let me in.”

Tsukishima just stared at him and that was when Kageyama decided, he’d had enough. He pushed on the door, catching Tsukishima by surprise, and used it to his advantage, to slide through.

“You little- wait-“

Kageyama sprinted into the living room and raised his hands in surrender.

“I need to get something off my chest,” he said.  
“Get on with it then,” Tsukishima snapped.  
Kageyama stared at him, his mouth dry. There was a patch on his shirt that Kageyama had the wildest urge to point out but chose not to. 

“I’m s-sorry,” he muttered, not quite looking at Tsukishima, and instead focusing on a spot to his right. “I should never have yelled at you that day.” He took a deep breath.  
“I know,” he continued, “about how dedicated you are to volleyball and to the team and- I know you probably can’t forgive me-“

“I forgive you.”

Kageyama zipped his head towards Tsukishima. Tsukishima had his hands in his pocket, his eyes slightly narrowed.

“I forgive you,” he repeated. “Now if you’re done, could you please leave?”

“Why?” Kageyama asked desperately. “Why do you want me to leave? Do you hate me so much you can’t stand me for two minutes? Even when I’m trying my darnest to somehow g-get close to you? To apologize?”  
Tsukishima remained silent, and now the words seemed to flow from him in earnest.

“Are you expecting someone? Is it-“ his voice choked, and he felt mortified as he felt his vision go blurry.  
“Is it that- that girl?”

Tsukishima’s eyes widened fractionally, and for the first time, he looked shaken.

“No, I’m not expecting anyone, I-“ he ran his right hand through his hair frustratedly, “ I was about to- this is the wrong time for y- I just really need you to leave.”

“WHY?” Kageyama yelled, completely ignoring his mind screaming at him to remain calm.

“Kageyama-“

“Tell me!”

“No one’s at home.”

For three seconds Kageyama tried to comprehend the meaning behind those three words. He turned them over in his head, trying to understand. And when he did, he heard how quiet the house was, the loudness of the silence that seemed to stretch between them.

“Oh,” he whispered. “Oh.”

“So could you please leave, I- I have a lot to say to you, I just- not now-“

“No.” Kageyama almost didn’t hear himself saying it, the word seemed to have forced itself out of his mouth. His breathing was out of control, labored, and the way Tsukishima stared at him didn’t help matters.  
For ten seconds, neither of them spoke a word. They just stared.

And then Tsukishima strode across the room, to the door, his eyes unblinking, his gaze unflinching, the sound of his footsteps thundering in the quiet din, and for one wild second, Kageyama thought he’d yell at him to get out.  
But instead, Tsukishima reached for the door, and closed it slowly.  
He reached for the key, and locked it.  
Kageyama heard the click, it was faint, but the sound seemed to reverberate and mimic the thrum in his veins.

And when Tsukishima turned, for the first time that evening, he looked calm. He looked at Kageyama, stared into his eyes from across the room, even as the silence stretched unbearably.  
And then slowly, without breaking eye contact, he lifted the key and held it in front of him, and then slipped it ever so slowly in to his pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama showed up a few seconds after Tsukishima spilled his coffee. Next chapter, ahem. 
> 
> Comments and feedback appreciated guys! Hope you enjoy this chapter!


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